{OOC-We're going to start putting up some info in the in game deities to be supported on DN1. Some of the info is reused from DN2, which is set before DN1, so the first thing we put in this thread will be familiar to those perusing DN2 previews. More info will be published as it becomes available, but there is no schedule for releases.}

This tome contains a popular myth told to children to describe the creation of the world and the Gods. It is obviously a dated story, set in the vast, stormy oceans to the west of Tarquinia, but it is nonetheless a popular tale. Tarquinia now lives only in legend.

***

In the beginging there was only the storm. The First Tempest. The sky stormed always, unbroken, evermore. Men huddled together on rocks amid the churning seas and fought the elements and the beasts for survival. The men and the beasts were one, in truth. The Tempest raged on.

On a day like any other, the storm stopped. Man discoverd "dry". The winds and rains ceased and an arc of seven colors filled the sky. This was the coming of The Seven Siblings.

On this first day came Ukousheer, the blue. Ukousheer looked at the world and felt peace. All was in order. He went to the North and fell into a great slumber.

On the second day came Audril and Shinook. The sisters were twins; the purple of the one was almost indistinguishable from the violet of the other. The sisters tasted the air and coveted it. The sisters fought over the air.

The third day came and still the sisters fought. At the end of the third day, their energies spent, they rested. Shinook rested in the South, and Audril in the North. Daily, the twins returned to their struggle and ignored the insignificant specks of land beneath them. Their fury ripped the earth and whipped the seas into a frenzy.

On the fourth day came Soonami, the red. He saw man huddled on the rocks and had ambition. He appeared to men, inspired them, and mobbed them into murderous rages. Soonami reaved player against player, ambition against ambition, and welcomed the death and destruction for his entertainment and power. He stole the souls of the dead.

On the fifth day came Naigdon, the orange. He noted his brothers and sisters, fighting in the air and among men, and sighed at their Chaos. Naigdon sat down in the ocean in the morning. In the afternoon, he erupted fires from the sea and the earth. Naigdon built many islands and shores among the rocks in the sea. Naigdon sat among the rocks. He was the Evergod, the Unmoving.

On the sixth day came Aytay, the yellow. She saw her Naigdon's islands, in the sea, and was drawn to them. Aytay sat on the volcanic rocks. The rocks steamed in the misty waters. She cooled them. Aytay glared at her brother Soonami's mischief, and worked to build communities among men on the islands instead of tearing them apart. She inspired men and women with magic to aid their daily trials. Occaisionally she blessed great heros with her magic.

On the seventh day came Eldatha, the green. Eldatha quietly placed wildlife and vegetation to seed and grow on the cooling volcanic rocks. The fertile islands sprouted. The infertile islands did not. Eldatha had a voice lof Singing Water, and wild beasts were tamed by her presence. Eldatha made her home in the souls of the wild things she had made.

On the eight day, the skies grew dark and the Tempest renewed itself. The awakened gods struggled with their brothers, their sisters, and their ambitions. Wise men wept. Ukousheer continued to slumber in the North, unaware of his siblings' follies. The Second Tempest began.

The wolf again caught the scent of his prey. He had not seen his quary, but he knew something was unusual this night. It moved quickly, and bolted in patterns unlike any of his previous experiences. The wolf's hunger was great, as he had not eaten in a long time, and this was a hunt to relish. A hunt to savour, and to be remembered. The wolf felt fortunate, in the back of it's mind, and allowed himself to be driven by his hunger. He was a dark shadow passing through the night.

The hunter paused. The soft evening wind had shifted. His ears twitched in the cold air. Steam rose gently from his nostrils, but there was no other evidence of his presence. Suddenly, he was gone in a flash. She was near. She was in a clearing ahead, near the water.

The hunter dodged silently through some underbrush and sprang into the forest groove. He tensed to spring at his target, and she eyed him calmly, unmoving. She was a magnificent specimen - a rare white doe.

But something was amiss. He was not the hunter after all.

One hundred and one pairs of bright, unblinking yellow eyes surrounded him. One hundred and one owls surveyed him. Judged him. The wolf lowered his head and his tail. He submitted to his inspection.

A female voice penetrated the huntlust in his mind.

"You hunt with skill, elf man."

He was instantly defused. His hunger was sated, replaced by something new. The wolf's form became intangible, and then a man sat in its place. He raised his eyes to meet her gaze. His voice broke the night silence.

"And you lead a good chase."

In place of the doe was pale elven woman with radiant green eyes. She was beautiful. Her unearthly grace belied an an ambiguous strength, a confident counterpoint to the doe's vulnerability. She smiled, and turned towards the water. The man rose, slowly, and followed. He could do nothing else. The owls parted for him. One hundred and one pairs of eyes silently watched the elves fade into the edges of the night.

This was the first meeting of Eldatha and Mithra. It is called The First Hunt by most who know the tale. Mithra would hunt again, many more times, but he would never again hunt another prey. And in the end, he never hunted at all.

Every hunt, Mithra's lust would change, ever so slightly, into a new hunger, a new need. Every hunt, Eldatha tested Mithra with slightly more difficulty. He never failed. In time, Mithra became one with the calm forest breeze, the moonlit streams, and the tree-shrouded hunting paths. In time, he had passed all her tests. He became one with the Green Goddess.

The wolf again caught the familiar scent of his prey. He had not seen his quary, but he knew something was unusual this night. It moved quickly, and bolted in patterns unlike any of his previous experiences. She was always testing him. The wolf's hunger was great, and this was a hunt he always relished. A hunt to savour, and to lose oneself in. The wolf felt fortunate, in the back of it's mind, and allowed himself to be driven by his hunger. He was a dark shadow passing through the night.

The hunter paused. The soft evening wind had shifted. His ears twitched in the cold air. Steam rose gently from his nostrils, but there was no other evidence of his presence. Suddenly, he was gone in a flash. She was near. She was in a clearing ahead, near the water.

The hunter dodged silently through some underbrush and sprang into the forest groove. He tensed to spring at his target. He was confronted by a rare white albino wolf. A low growl interrupted the night.

Something was amiss.

One hundred and one pairs of bright, unblinking yellow eyes surrounded him. One hundred and one owls surveyed him. The albino wolf growled again, and he sprang. He had surprised her, surprised himself. He tore into the wolf.

Someone laughed in the back of his mind. A slow, callous, ironic laugh.

He stopped, and was instantly confused. His hunger was sated, replaced by something new. The albino wolf's form became intangible, and then a green eyed elf woman laid in its place. Her eyes were faded and muted, and sad. She smiled weakly at the wolf.

The wolf realized what he had done, and turned to the owls.

Something was amiss. In his haste, he had miscounted. There were one hundred and two pairs of eyes watching him. The nearest owl faded, and the Reaver appeared in its place. Mithra had failed his last test.

The wolf howled at the night sky. Anger, confusion, regret, and a deep sadness settled into his cry. He did not sound like a wolf at all. The wolf turned back to the green eyed elf. She was gone. He howled again; a single star, twinkling green, burst into life and joined the Garden in the night sky. The Reaver was gone, having taken what he came for.

Mithra growled, and lept into the night, in pursuit of his Green Star. In time, he raced across the clouds and sprang from the moon. He, too, disappeared into the sky.

This was the last meeting of Eldatha and Mithra. This was the Green Deception of Soonami, the Reaver. It is called The Last Hunt by most who know the tale. For Mithra, this hunt would not end. And in the end, he never hunted at all.

Every night, Mithra's lust would change, ever so slightly, into a new hunger, a new need. Every hunt, Mithra searched, vainly, for Eldatha. He never succeeded. In time, Mithra became one with the weeping willows, the crying rain storms, and the mournful winds. In time, he had failed his ultimate test. He became one with pain, regret and sorrow.

Edam was the most beautiful of young men in Ancient Tarquinia. He was a paladin in of the Silver Knights, and the course of performing his duties for the Knights, he became a constant thorn in the side of the god Soonami, the Reaver. Edam's quests would one day deliver him to the Cold North.

When Audril's gaze fell upon Edam in the Cold North, she fell instantly in love, and she observed him incessantly for seven days from a bed of snow clouds. Distracted by her infatuation, she did not notice her brother Soonami's raised eyebrows, nor his amused smirk. She did not even hear Soonami's voice when he whispered ideas and suggestions in her ear. So subtle was his advice, Audril believed the idea to pursue Edam was her own, born from the North Winds she herself had created. Edam's image echoed back to her again and again, as a beautiful rose in stark contrast with her icy mountain peak home.

Audril followed Edam back to Tarquinia at the end of his quest. The city's weather grew increasingly fierce and bitterly cold for seven days while she studied the man. But she was be disappointed, for time revealed that Edam loved a mortal woman, a priestess of Shinook named Chara. Soonami again whispered in Audril's ear, and she again flew into a rage, and encased Chara in a pillar of ice. Audril took Chara's form and went to Edam in that very night under cover of a storm. She spent the evening with the young paladin, and Tarquinia was buried in seven feet of snow.

The pair was sequestered together for seven days before Audril's storms subsided. At the end of the storm, seven hundred and seventy seven pale white violet mountain roses sprang from the ground in Tarquinia around Edam and Audril's nest.

On the eighth morning, Edam discovered Chara's icey tomb. Soonami again whispered in a distracted ear, and Edam realized Audril's true nature. In shame, Edam slew himself. The mountain roses of Tarquinia wilted, and never would flower again in that city. Audril again flew into a rage at Edam's passing, and her ear was again vulnerable to Soonami. Audril would blame Shinook for Edam's death. But Audril's fury would wait for a time; she returned to her bed of snow clouds in the Cold North and in seven days, she bore Edam's child, a daughter.

Audril could not bear to look at the child, for she was a true image of Chara. Audril abandoned the girl in the mountains in spite. The nameless child raised herself in the shadows of the mountains. Wherever she slept at night, a bed of seventy seven pale violet roses would spring forth in the morning. The flowers would bloom only once, and then no flower would ever again bloom in the spot. Soonami came to her regularly, and whispered stories of her mother into her ear. After seventy seven years, the Reaver took the girl away from the mountains.

And her name was Charess, the Pale Rose in the Shadow of the Mountain. She became the student of the Reaver, and the Reaver became her Father. This is the story of Soonami's Violet Deceptions.

On the fifth day came Naigdon, the orange. He drifted into the world on the back of Turtle, accompanied by his other children. Loon, Beaver, Muskrat, Bear, Caribou, Wolf and Buffalo all watched pensively as their father's gaze scanned the horizon.

Today, Naigdon would make the Earth. But this place was not right. He could not be Rooted here. Above, Shinoook and Audril clashed in the skies, chasing lightning across the dark predawn sky and spilling thunder into the Sea. Naigdon drew a long breath that could be taken as a sigh.

At dawn, the Turtle awoke, and Naigdon beseeched her to swim West, into the fire of the sun. She saw Shinook and Audril and Soonami, and she observed the wisdom of Naigdon's plan. Turtle agreed to swim west. The sun hovered at the horizon in her sight, and the morning mists over the Sea burned off and faded away. Naigdon sat down in the sea on her back, unmoving, with his back to his brothers and sisters as they receeded to the East. None noted his arrival on the fifth day; none noted his departure. Naigdon's children watched silently.

As the morning waned and the sun climbed into the sky, a crease formed, and grew, on Naigdon's brow. His children grew concerned, for they knew He needed to be Rooted. Turtle swam west, steadily.

At noon, the wind shifted. Naigdon turned and nodded to his children. This was to be the spot. Loon, with a flourish, lifted into the air, spun, hovered, and then dove into Sea. An hour passed, and tension grew, and finally she returned from the sea. She shook her head sadly; she had found no Earth to Root. Loon was broken by the sea.

One by one, each of the children dove into the sea, but they could find no earth. One by one, their despair grew, until only Muskrat remained untested. Muskrat rose and made her way to the water, but the silence was broken by Loon.

"Surely, you cannot expect to succeed where all of your brothers and sisters have failed? Can you not see that we are all much larger, and much stronger, and therefore much better swimmers?"

Bear snorted at this, and Muskrat's eyes grew misty. But Naigdon caught her gaze, and she raised her eyes. Their time had grown too short to waste in argument or idle conversations. Resolute, she turned and dove into the cool early evening water. The sea made no ripples as she broke it's surface, and Muskrat was gone. When an hour had passed, Muskrat had still not returned. Another hour passed and Naidgon's face darkened and his other children wept. It seemed the Earth would not be Rooted.

However, as the sun was sinking on the horizon, Wolf spotted something bobbing in the water. It was Muskrat. She was not moving. Wolf scampered over to her and gently raised her limp form out of the water. She moved not, breathed not, and her eyes were dark. But she clutched something in her tiny paws. Wolf carried his sister to thier father and retreated with his tail low.

Naigdon held his daughter's form for a moment. His face softened and he held her close to his heart. He shed a single tear; this rolled down his face and landed on Muskrat. His tear washed away the salt and the sea from her form, and the small clutch of Earth from her paws.

Naigdon stood up. Muskrat suddenly burst into flames in his hands. The Earth and his tears dripped into the water beneath Turtle, and suddenly Turtle rested on a long, sandy beach. It extended as far as the eye could see to the North and to the South. Naigdon raised Muskrat's burning form into the sky, and there she remained, brighter than ever. Again, he sighed, and then he turned to the beach. Naigdon melted into the sands, Rooted, and disappeared. The remaining children of Naigdon climbed back onto Turtle's back and disappeared at sea to the West.

In the East, a distant mountain exploded into view and spewed ash and lava into the air. This was followed by another, and another, and the sky was filled with Naigdon's lava hot tears for his daughter. Naigdon rained across the whole world, and brought fire to the night. Soonami, Shinook, and Audril took pause, and the whole world shook and rumbled. Naigdon's Elder siblings looked at his Earth and Fire in awe, and they retreated to the clouds as the sea retreated before the earth.

And in the night sky to the west, beyond the ash and the volcanoes, Muskrat shone brightly. Her newly formed constellation was 8 bright orange stars; one star for herself, and one for each of her brothers and sisters. Muskrat's tail pointed due West, and she guided her brothers and sisters through the sea from her vantage point in the sky.

The Fifth Day ended with tears of Fire streaking through the Sky and with the Earth imposed on the Sea. Naigdon, the Evergod, the Unmoving, had Rooted. He had painted the world orange.

And it is said that whenever a hatchling Sea Turtle first opens her eyes to the world, she looks up to her aunt, the Muskrat in the sky. Muskrat guides the new children to the safety of the Sea, with her tail pointing safely to the West.

In the early years of her existance, Charess led a carefree existance. She flitted to and fro in the mountains, nestling her pale flowers in the valleys at random. Charess was called the Pale Rose, as she left a bed of pale flower petals wherever she slept. A trail of petals marked her wandering in the mountains for many years. She lived a simple life, stealing the cold mountain nights for herself, and paid little heed to that which lived and breathed around her. Her only companionship consisted of occaisional visits from her adoptive father, Soonami. But Charess truly embodied a whimsical, unpredictable, and very beautiful Pale Rose in the Shadow of the Mountains.

In time, Charess grew restless. The shadows in her heart had been cast over the mountains, which she claimed as her own, but her heart became heavy. Her shadows were empty and she longed to share them. And thus she sought out her father, Soonami, for advice.

"My shadows are empty, father. I long to share them." Her whispers were inaudible, as even her voice was a shadow.

"Then share them my daughter. Perhaps the laughter of children would please you." Soonami's voice was like brimstone and thunder, contrasting starkly with the comparatively quiet Pale Rose.

Charess considered this. "I cannot do this alone."

Soonami snorted and laughed. "The mountains have noticed your presence, my Pale Rose. Naigdon is not ignorant of you. Dance for the mountain, and I wager your heart's desire will come to you."

Charess returned to her home, the mountains. She already loved them dearly, but now she found new purpose there. She no longer left her Roses scattered randomly about. Charess left petals nestled in the bare valleys between the peaks, like kisses on a lover's neck. And Naigdon, the Unmoving, had indeed noted her presence.

The marks she left on his Earth were alien to him, and formed a fleeting, yet distinctive impression on his conciousness. Naigdon had not known a touch like this in times past. He longed for more kisses, and he quickly became addicted, obsessed with the Pale Rose. Naigdon began to awaken to Charess.

During the day, she was still, even in the strongest of storms, but at night, she beckoned to him and penetrated his dreams. Naigdon's Earthsleep grew restless, for when Charess sighed in the cool night air, the great mountains rumbled in response. When she swayed in the moonlight, the valleys echoed rockfalls in time, matching her tempo. And when Charess shed a lonely, pale rose petal tear, Naigdon cracked the earth and shed avalanches of the purest white snow from his highest peaks in response. Eventually, the Earth did not not rest without the Pale Rose's consent. In time, the movement of the Pale Rose in the Shadow of the Mountains had enslaved and hypnotized the Earth.

One day, Charess disappeared completely. She left behind a kiss of flower petals in a the deepest of dark valley. Naigdon missed her and longed for her return. He became sleepless, his troubled mind grew distressed, and his violence was born. A crack in the Earth developed, and lava spilled out, seeking her. Naigdon hungered for the Pale Rose but could not divine her, and his heart grew still. The only trace of the Pale Rose he fathomed was her last kiss in his dark valleys.

Naigdon Unrooted himself, and stepped out of the Earth; Naigdon took the form of one of his favorite children. He manifested as a mountain dwarf and he mourned her passing. He lumbered slow, earthen steps to the dark valley of her last kiss, and he freely wept tears of lava and ash as he travelled. This was uncharacteristic of the stoic mountain dwarves, and of Naigdon himself, but he cared not. His tears carved out great caves and hollows under the surface of the Earth, and still he wept. Naidgon's frustration lashed out at his children and the mountains; he blindly hurt those that he truly loved when his addictions could not be quenched.

Naigdon never saw the shadows that stalked him. He never felt the prick of the Pale Rose's deceitful thorns. He felt nothing as she drank his essence, dipping under the surface, drawing him away, and making him her own.

He never saw his brother, Soonami, standing behind Charess, and to her side. Naigdon fell, sad, tired, confused, and weak. Soonami consumed what remained, and Naigdon joined his child the Muskrat in the Western night sky, a bright orange star flickering in the distance.

The night of Naigdon's fall, Charess decended into the dark cracks and crevasses carved by Naigdon's pain and sadness. She gathered up his ashen tears, and then she attempted to remake them in her own image. These children pleased her, as they reminded her of their father. She dubbed them the Grues, and she sent them deep into the Earth, far away from the Sun. And then Charess gathered up Naigdon's molten tears, and these too, she attempted to remake in her own image. These children reminded her of herself, and this pleased her even moreso; she called these children the Darklings and she took them to live with her in the shallow cracks and caves in the Earth, where shadows thrived between the Earth and the Sun.

The Darklings and the Grues came to worship their mother and father from the depths of the Earth, and they were each one part Shadow, and one part Earth and Fire. The Grues, however, were more Elemental than Shadow, and the Darklings, conversely, were more Shadow than Elemental. And Charess loved all her children, but her favorite were the Darklings. And so the Grues, though they loved their mother, felt neglected and mourned their father.

This is the story of Naigdon's Betrayal, the "Orange Deception", and the birth of the Darklings and the Grues. This is the story of the Heart of Shadows, and the First Deceit of Charess.